


Extra Cheese

by Anonymous



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendan's love of both food and mouthy blue-eyed men is going to bring about his downfall someday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extra Cheese

**Author's Note:**

> someone stop me before i come up with an even more asinine au

The first time it happens, Brendan hardly takes the time to acknowledge him past his blind rage.

"Fourteen quid for a large pizza? Seriously?"

The delivery boy scoffs. "That's what it says on the menu, don't it?"

"That's theft," Brendan says. "No pizza should be that much. You've got to be committing a felony here or something."

"This is the best pizza you will eat around here," the delivery boy says. "Swear down."

"Alright, listen," Brendan squints at the man’s messily scrawled name tag, "Ste?  What the hell kinda of a name is Ste?"

Ste's eyes widen in offense. "It's a good name!"

"Yeah, maybe for a council rat working at a pizza joint."

"Do you want the pizza or not?" Ste asks. "Cause if not, I'm done wasting my time here, _sir_."

Feisty. "Alright, give me the damn pizza."

Brendan fishes his wallet out as Ste aggressively brandishes the pizza box in front of him. It's playing dirty, the scent of sauce and cheese is amazing and Brendan is thinking with his stomach right now.

"This pizza better make it feel like the second coming of Christ is happening in my mouth," Brendan grumbles. "Now get out of here, Steven."

Ste's jaw drops. "How do you know my name?"

"Was bound to be either Steven or Stella, and I wouldn't put fourteen quid on the latter," Brendan says, and slams the door shut. If this pizza isn't amazing, he's getting his lawyer involved.

–

Okay, so the pizza was pretty alright.

"Didn't think you'd be calling again," Ste says, standing in front of Brendan's flat again. Smug little bastard.

"Calm down, skippy," Brendan grumbles, digging around in his wallet. "Pizza ain't that good."

"How come you keep ordering then?" Ste asks. "Two larges. Bit much for one bloke."

"One is for me," Brendan says, "One's for my boys. Teenagers eat too much."

Ste rolls his eyes. "Yeah, says the guy who called dibs on a whole large."

"I pay the bills, I can eat all the damn pizza I want," Brendan says. It's earlier in the day this time, and the sun is still shining. It gives him a better opportunity to get a look at Ste. Golden skin and baby blues, Brendan's favorite color scheme. Nothing about his demeanor aside from the name tag and the pizza box suggests delivery boy. Rent boy more like, he's fucking gorgeous.

Brendan keeps that comment to himself.

Ste is getting impatient now. The arm bearing the weight of the pizzas is starting to tremble and he's got his lower lip clamped between his teeth. Brendan hesitates for only a moment before he pulls out a fifty that he shoves into Ste's hand as he scoops up the pizzas.

"Alright, I owe you--"

"Keep the change," Brendan says, savoring the gobsmacked look on Ste's face as those full lips fall open and those blue eyes widen. Then he turns to head back into the house, leaving Ste gaping stupidly just outside.

–

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Ste grins, holding yet another pizza, and Brendan scoffs.

"Are you the only delivery boy they got over there?"

"Pretty much," Ste says. "We're a tiny place. Just me and some mates."

"So I take it you're not _just_ the delivery boy."

Ste beams, clearly proud of himself. "I guess you could call me the head chef. Made all of _your_ pizzas, I did."

"All of them?" Brendan asks.

"Pretty sure, yeah," Ste says. "I work every day and sometimes I'm one of the only ones working late evenings."

Brendan hands Ste the cash in exchange for the pizza. "You ain't half bad at your craft."

"Ta," Ste says, counting out the money with a bashful smile on his face.  If Brendan has him pegged right – which he's about 90% sure he has – he could probably flirt with Ste at this point and not be dropped straight into the _lecherous old man_ category.

"In fact," Brendan says, testing his theory by dropping his voice low and leaning into Ste's personal space, "I'd pay for the home-cooked treatment. I got a big kitchen and nobody around who knows how to use it."

"Sounds an awful lot like you're trying to get me alone in your house," Ste says, those blue eyes twinkling, honest to God _twinkling_. Brendan wonders if he's used to getting hit on while delivering pizza, and the most asinine sense of jealousy sparks through Brendan.

"Maybe I am."

"That's proper serial killer, that," Ste says, but he's still grinning.

"Come on," Brendan growls, "Do you think I'd ever hurt you, Steven?"

Ste's tongue peeks out between his teeth for a split second, just enough to brush his bottom lip. It draws Brendan's attention until they're both standing in the softly approaching dusk in front of Brendan's flat with a pizza box wedged between them and enough tension to smother a lesser man.

The spell is broken when Ste involuntarily gives a full body shudder. "Freezing today, innit?"

"You could come inside and warm up," Brendan offers, and Ste rolls his eyes.

"Gotta head back," he says. "You're not my only customer."

"But I am your favorite," Brendan teases, and Ste flushes a pretty shade of red.

"I gotta get back now," he says. "Goodbye, Brendan."

And then he's off, striding away and giving Brendan a perfect view of his backside in those red chinos.

–

Next time Brendan wants something, he goes to the shop himself. It's Eileen's week to have Declan and Paddy over, and he can't justify ordering another pizza so soon after the last one. So he decides he'll let the chef help him decide on dinner.

Only, once he steps foot inside the shop, he sees a sad looking brown haired boy where he'd hope to see Ste.

"Excuse me, is Steven here?"

The man looks up and his brows knit as a pinched American accent greets Brendan. "You mean Ste?"

"I don't know if The Queen's English is something that your brain can comprehend," Brendan says, "But that's what I just said."

"Brendan," Ste's familiar voice booms in warning from the kitchen. "Be nice."

"I am being nice," Brendan says, nearly pouts.  "I'm just telling – what does your name tag say?  Doug?  I'm telling Douglas here that I'd like to speak with you."

"Yeah, well, you can place an order with me," Doug says through a tight smile.

"Maybe I'm not here to place an order," Brendan says, leaning on the counter.  "And even if I am, Steven knows what I like best."

It's mostly bullshit.  Ste knows how to make a mean pizza, that's all Brendan cares about.  But there's something about this little American that rubs him wrong.  Brendan wants to watch him squirm.

"Alright," Ste says, emerging from the kitchen with a blue apron on and a smudge of flower across his nose.  "What do you fancy, Brendan?"

 _You_ , Brendan doesn't say, because he's not _that_ obvious.  "I was hoping you could help me with that, Steven."

"We got menus for a reason," Ste snarks, but Brendan can tell he's amused.

“Oh come on,” Brendan says.  “Tiny joint like this, you can get nice and personal with your customers, yeah?  Not tied down by regulations, you can think _outside_ the box.”

“How about…” Ste shrugs.  “A panini?”

“A panini?” Brendan deadpans.  “I tell you _outside the box_ and you give me a flat-ironed sandwich?”

“I could always get you a menu,” Ste suggests, cheeky bastard, and Doug is growing more and more uncomfortable looking by the second.  

“Tell me, Douglas,” Brendan says, eyes drilling into Ste, “Are Steven’s paninis any good?”

Ste quirks an eyebrow as Doug stutters out, “Yeah, uh.  Sure.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have one.”

“Right, what do you want on it?” Ste asks.

“Surprise me,” Brendan says.  “You’ve never let me down in the past.”

“One panini, coming right up,” Ste says, and starts walking into the kitchen.

“Oh, and Steven,” Brendan crooks his finger and Ste sighs, approaching him with a tentative smile, like he’s putting on a show of being annoyed.  “You’ve got some flour, right…”

Brendan reaches out and slowly drags his thumb across Ste’s skin where the white powder contours his cheekbone.  Ste turns hot at the touch as he gapes and lets Brendan stroke his face.

“There,” Brendan says, pulling back and flicking the flour from his fingertips.  Ste just blinks dazedly like he’s suddenly been thrown back into the present, and Doug clears his throat from beside them.

“I guess Ste will start working on your panini then,” he says, “Won’t you Ste?”

“Won’t be ten minutes,” Ste says, slowly retreating into the kitchen.  “Make yourself comfy."

Brendan does, flopping down on the sole sofa in the tiny shop and watching Doug as he takes another order.  The lad squirms under his gaze, like Brendan’s eyes are burning him.  Briefly, Brendan wonders if this man and Ste are _involved_.  They look like they could be cousins, the both of them so slight and boyish looking in similar ways.

Ste has Doug trumped, though.  It would break Brendan’s heart to kick Ste out of bed, but Doug wouldn’t even get an invitation.  They carry themselves too differently.

Doug is spared any prolonged awkwardness when an order is placed that sends him back into the kitchen.  Moments later, Ste emerges with two orders, some pan pizza thing and an intricately wrapped sandwich that Brendan tears into as soon as he gets his hands on it.

The other customer looks eager to leave as they wave a note in Ste’s direction, but Brendan wants to savor this.  He tosses a note on the counter and takes a bite.  Not bad at all.

“So what’s the verdict, then?” Ste asks, handing the other customer their change and throwing in a cheery _have a nice day!_  Brendan chews thoughtfully for a moment before approaching the now-vacated spot in front of the till.

“I’d say Douglas vastly understated the quality of your paninis.”

Ste brandishes a finger in Brendan’s face, but he’s smiling.  “Be nice to him.”

“I was perfectly civil,” Brendan says in his defense, and takes another bite of the panini.

Ste looks away with a huff of begrudging laughter.  “Alright, I owe you–”

“Keep it,” Brendan says through a mouthful of food.  “Compensation for me being mean to Dougie back there.”

“If you keep giving me way more cash than I’m worth, people are gonna start talking about us,” Ste says as he puts the money in the till without an argument.  “Who knows what they’ll think.”

“Imagine if they heard me asking you to come cook for me at my flat,” Brendan says, louder than necessary so that the incoming customer and Doug can both hear him.  “Then they’ll _really_ talk.”

“Not gonna happen,” Ste says softly, self-consciously, but he’s grinning.  “Now have a nice day, Brendan.”

Brendan knows he’s being shooed out, so he just winks at Ste as he takes another bite of the panini and leaves without a word.

-

When Brendan next steps into that little shop, he’s on a mission.  It’s later at night, after the dinnertime rush, so he expects there to be very little activity.

There’s a girl behind the counter.  Her nametag reads Leanne in loopy lettering.  When he walks in, she starts to ask for his order, but Brendan brushes past her, walking behind the counter and back into the kitchen where he finds Ste taking a pizza out of the oven.

“What do you think you’re doing back here?” Ste asks, only mildly annoyed and not surprised in the least.  “We take orders up front, you know.”

“Not here for food today, Steven,” Brendan says, ignoring the chirping of the girl following him back into the kitchen.

“Come back on my break if you want a chat, Bren,” Ste says, calling him _Bren_ like that’s normal.  “We’re a little busy now.”

“I can see that, Steven, but I’m here with a business proposition.”

That get’s Ste’s attention.  “Alright, out with it.”

“I was wondering if you do catering,” Brendan starts.  “Got a bit of an event coming up at the club I manage, Chez Chez.  I was wondering if you could supply the food?  Some hors d'oeuvres, maybe?"

Leanne cringes a bit.  “We don’t usually–”

“Sure we can,” Ste pipes up.  “Give us a time and date and we’ll be there.”

“We will?” Leanne asks, and Ste nods.

“Sure you can handle it, Steven?” Brendan asks, and Ste cocks his head to the side.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Brendan shrugs.  “It’s just, your lady friend here doesn’t seem too confident.”

“I have a name!” Leanne says, but Ste is brushing past her to get in Brendan’s face.

“Don’t you patronize us, Brendan,” he says.  “As long as you got the cash for it, we can do it.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Brendan says.  “You and your little buddies will be paid handsomely.”

Ste smiles, all full of himself.  “That’s what I like to hear.”

“Then we have a deal,” Brendan grins.  “Next saturday, eight PM.  See you there, Steven.

“Yeah, and you’ll see Leanne, too!” Leanne interjects, but Brendan is already heading out the door.

-

Ste and company show up like they ran here from their little shop as soon as the food came out of the oven, but they make it to the club on time.  Chez is delighted with what they've prepared but Brendan really couldn’t care less, he’s more interested in watching Ste rush around trying to set everything up before the punters pour in.

When the club starts filling, Ste says that he’ll be back later to clean everything up.  But his shop closes at 9, and it’s going on 8:30 now anyway.  Brendan is prepared to sweet talk him into staying for a few beers, but Chez somehow beats him to the punch, offering a round on the house as a thank you for catering.

Ste and his buddies stay.  They dance around, steal bites of the own food, and just generally give off vibes like they’re kids in a sweets shop.  Ste dances with loads of people, men and women alike.  He’s got a lot of friends, it would seem, and Brendan feels hot with jealousy.

It’s only when Ste is standing alone along the upstairs railing with his lips wrapped around a bottle of beer that Brendan corners him.

“Enjoying the evening?” he asks, leaning on the railing and rumbling low in Ste’s ear.

“Enjoying the complimentary booze,” Ste grins, raising his bottle.  “Ta.”

“Don’t get too smashed,” Brendan says.  “Wouldn’t want anyone taking advantage.”

“This is my first bottle,” Ste says.  “I’m not even buzzed.”

Brendan can believe it when he looks over at Ste.  He’s flushed, but that’s probably just from the dancing.  His speech is ringing clear and strong and his eyes are sharp.  Brendan wants to get him absolutely pissed, but not tonight.  He wants both of them to have a clear head.

“Looked like you were having a nice time out there.”  Brendan remarks, gesturing to the dance floor.

“Wish I’d have known I were gonna stay,” Ste pouts.  “I look like a right knob in my work clothes, don’t I?”

“No, Steven,” Brendan says, pointing at a man in a t-shirt three sizes two small and a pair of skinny jeans that accentuate his chicken legs, “That guy looks like a knob.  You just look like a…”

“A council rat who works at a pizza joint?”

“I was going to say a young businessman, but that works too,” Brendan says.  “I’d trade the short-sleeved button downs for long sleeves, though.  Looks a bit used car salesman as-is.”

“It gets hot in that kitchen, alright,” Ste says defensively.

“Then roll the sleeves up,” Brendan says.  “I hear that gets the ladies’ tongues a-wagging.”

Ste hesitates for a second before he answers, taking a preparatory swig of beer.  “Not really interested in the ladies’ tongues tonight, am I?”

That’s it, the verbal affirmation Brendan has been waiting for, the cue to go in for the kill.  Ste has spelled it out for him, and the game is fucking _on_.  He keeps himself reserved, though.  No need to give Ste what he wants right away.  Cat and mouse is too fun for that.

“Really now?” Brendan asks, smiling gently, a predators smile.

Ste shrugs.  “Is that a problem?”

“As long as you don’t make a mess out of my toilets, I don’t care who’s tongues go where,”  Brendan says, giving Ste permission to continue.

“So,” Ste turns to look Brendan straight in the eye, “Are you ever gonna make a move, then?”

“Maybe I’m waiting for you to make one first,” Brendan says.  “Just to see if you have the stones.”

Ste opens his mouth, snarky retort written in the spark in his eyes, but Rhys interrupts him when he bounds over from the bar.

“Brendan, that blue shite is selling faster than we thought.”

Brendan stares at him for a second.  “Congratulations?”

“Well, what are we going to do when we run out?”

“There should be more down in the cellar,” Brendan says shortly.  He was finally getting somewhere with Ste and… Wait a minute.

“Right, I guess I’ll head down and grab some more,” Rhys says, but Brendan stops him.

“I need you working behind the bar,” he says.  “I’ll do it.”

Almost immediately, Ste interjects, “Let me help.  I’m here for catering, after all.  Might as well put me to work.”

“Really?” Brendan asks, feigning surprise when he’s actually thanking the Lord, and Ste nods.  “Follow me, then.”

Brendan leads them through the crowd of people all the way down to the cellar.  He feels Ste’s presence right behind him the entire time, warm and eager to please.  There’s a giddiness about both of them as they descend into the lowest level of the club, both fully aware of how this is going to end.

It’s dark down here.  Whoever was here last turned most of the lights off.  Brendan flicks them on, but the darkness prevails through the cobwebs.  Shadows stretch in the dim light, but Ste doesn’t look afraid.

He drags his fingers through the dust on one of the stills, letting the shine of it peek through in the low light.  Ste turns to look at Brendan, a smug smile sitting on his face as he says, “Bit creepy down here, innit?”

“Booze cellars ain’t gotta be pretty,” Brendan says, closing the door behind him.  This is the first time, he realizes, that he and Ste have been completely alone together in private.

“So where’s the stuff we gotta grab?” Ste asks, looking at Brendan like finding the right stock is the last thing on his mind.

“Right…” Brendan reaches forward and plants his hands on Ste’s chest, shoving him back against the wall easily.  “… Here.”

Ste’s arms are out and grabbing for Brendan almost before his back hits the wall.  They’re all over each other in a second, and it’s easy to pretend they’re not in a dusty cellar when they’re like this.  Ste sure as Hell isn’t shy, isn’t the kind of shag who will lie back and let someone else do all the work.

No, Ste is giving just as good as he’s getting.

Brendan pulls back to suck in burning lungfuls of air.  It’s too hot down here, there’s no airflow.  The ceiling vibrates with the bass upstairs and Ste’s cheeks are pink.

“Not even gonna take me on a date first?” Ste asks, breathing hard against Brendan’s mouth.

“What do you think tonight was?”

Ste laughs breathlessly.  “Hire me to cater an event at your club and call it a date.  Real classy.”

“I figured hitting on the delivery boy isn’t classy in the first place,” Brendan says, “So I decided to – what do you kids say these days?   _Go hard or go home_?”

“You’re an idiot,” Ste mutters, dragging Brendan into another hard kiss.  “Now how about we get your shit and head back upstairs so we can take this into that office of yours?”

“I think we’re perfectly fine down here,” Brendan says, pulling back enough to gesture at their surroundings, “Don’t you?”

“As much as I fancy a fuck in your creepy cellar, I’m guessing you don’t keep the necessities down here.”

“Necessities?”

“Gonna have to get me wet somehow,” Ste says, getting in Brendan’s face.  “I’m not a girl, Brendan.”

Brendan grabs Ste’s ass and pulls them flush together, pressing against Ste’s hard cock.  “Don’t I know it.”

“So?” Ste asks, rocking restlessly against Brendan, “You wanna?”

Brendan takes a moment to reach behind him into his back pocket.  Ste is curious, hooks his fingers in Brendan’s waistband and peers down into the wallet as Brendan roots around in it.  Emergency lube and condoms.  Of course.

“Safety first,” Brendan says, waving a condom in Ste’s face.  Ste just gapes at him.

“You _planned_ this!”

“Steven, I’ve been planning this since you told me you were a chef,” Brendan says, “Now take off your clothes.”

“You want me for my food?” Ste asks, sounding a little put off.

“Well,” Brendan grins, backing Ste up against the wall and reaching around to grab his arse again.  It’s a nice arse, very grabbable.  “Food’s just a perk.”

“Insufferable prick,” Ste mutters, but he lets Brendan kiss him again anyway.  There are so many things Brendan wants to do with him, _to_ him, but their absence is going to be noticed if they’re away too long.  He’s going to get Ste in a bed one of these days, but for now they don’t have much time.

So fuck teasing.  Brendan pops the button on Ste’s trousers and gets inside with little warning, startling a gasp out of Ste that rolls into a laugh.

“Keen, are you?” he teases as Brendan gets his cock out and gives it a few strokes.

“We don't have time for much foreplay,” Brendan murmurs, keeping his eyes glued on Ste’s cock.  Not huge but not tiny either, and just as pretty as the rest of him.  There was a plan when this all started.  Brendan knows they’re against the clock here.  He wanted to get Ste hard quickly and then fuck him good enough that Ste would be coming back for more.

He can’t _not_ drop to his knees, though, to take Ste’s cock in his mouth as he fumbles with the pocket-sized lube in his hand.  The noise Ste makes when Brendan takes the head in his mouth makes all this worth it.  Ste shoots an arm behind himself, hands gripping a wooden protrusion on the wall like he’d buckle without the support.

While Brendan distracts and disarms Ste with his mouth, taking every inch of Ste’s cock, he sneaks a slick finger to stroke teasingly at Ste’s hole.  To his credit, Ste doesn’t try to jump away.  Brendan’s name is breathed from his mouth in a sigh, but he encourages it with an almost shy rotation of his hips.

Brendan pulls back for a second, Ste’s cock standing at attention so close to his mouth he can feel the warmth of it.  “Alright?”

Ste nods, and that’s all the permission Brendan needs before he pushes on finger in.   _That_ gets a reaction out of Ste, alright.  His free hand moves to Brendan’s hair, and Brendan can’t even be annoyed as he bobs his head and steadily pushes the finger in up to the third knuckle.

“Been a while,” Ste breathes, thrusting the slightest bit.  Brendan wants to tear him apart, let him fuck his mouth while fingers fill him up.  “Not gonna break, though.  I can take it.”

That’s not something Brendan’s going to argue with.  A few strokes of his finger later and he’s adding a second one, stretching Ste and listening to the breathless moans tumble past his lips.  By the time two fingers turn to three, Ste _is_ thrusting harder, dragging his cock across Brendan’s tongue and moaning like he’s getting impatient.

When he feels loose enough, Brendan pulls of and stands up before Ste can complain.  He crowds Ste against the wall, giving his are a swat before thrusting two finger back into his hole, loving Ste’s surprised gasp.

“Think you can take me?” he asks, lips brushing Ste’s ear as he keeps up the steady in-out of his fingers.  Ste just whines high in his throat and nods into Brendan’s shoulder like words are too difficult right now.

Brendan pulls his fingers out and turns Ste around.  Ste practically spins on his heels in his eagerness to brace against the wall and spread his legs.  This is the first time Brendan has seen his backside bare, even if it’s with his trousers and pants pushed to about mid-thigh and covering most of his legs.  He has to beat down the urge to fall back to his knees to eat Ste out, but that can wait until later.  For now, Brendan works his cock out the whole way and generously covers it with a condom and lube.

The first push has them both hissing, but Ste urges him with an impatient _don’t stop_.  Slowly, Brendan rocks into Ste until he’s fully seated in that hot tightness that has him gritting his teeth and praising the fucking Lord for delivering this lad to his doorstep.  It’s like Ste was made for him.

“Alright, you might be perfectly happy standing there all day,” Ste says, breathing labored even as he turns back to look over his shoulder with a challenge in his eyes, “But I’d appreciate it if you got a move on before the party ends upstairs.”

“Cheeky little–” Brendan grunts, giving Ste a solid swat on the backside before pulling out and thrusting back in hard enough to push a grunt out of Ste.  “That more like it?”

“Keep it up and we’ll find out,” Ste taunts, bowing his back deeper as Brendan lays into him with harder thrusts.  It doesn’t take long before they’re practically folded together, Ste resting most of his upper body against the wall as Brendan leaning over his back to nibble on his ears and kiss his neck.  He’s sensitive there, sensitive just about everywhere.  Brendan decides to drag his fingers up under Ste’s shirt and is delighted to hear the hitch in Ste’s breath when he pinches a nipple.

Very sensitive.

Very sensitive and very _loud_.

Brendan pegged Ste as a screamer purely out of wishful thinking, but he’s starting to think he was on to something.  There’s no evident shame in any of the grunts and moans and whimpers he’s letting loose every time Brendan snaps his hips forward or rakes his nails across a nipple.

“You’re something else, you know that?” Brenda growls in his ear, any sentimentalism destroyed by the raw hunger in his voice.  Ste doesn’t say anything, he just twists around enough to kiss Brendan as well as he can at this angle.  It’s filthy and hot and everything Brendan could have hoped for –

Of course, that’s when the door is flung open, and Brendan’s toes curl knowing someone has found Ste and himself fucking up against a wall like this.

“Hey, are you guys – _Jesus_! Sorry!”

To make everything that much sweeter, it’s _Doug_ who barged in on them.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Ste groans, part panic and part arousal.  He lets his head drop, chin to chest, and his neck flushes darker in embarrassment.  Yet he doesn’t pull away from Brendan, doesn’t try to stop him at all.

“Not now, Douglas,” Brendan breathes, refusing to halt or even slow the motion of his hips.  He pounds into Ste even as Doug stammers out an apology and hastily pull the door closed.

“I’m gonna have to explain this to him later,” Ste groans, widening his stance a fraction.

“Nothing to explain,” Brendan leans down to breath in Ste’s ear.  “He’s not your _boyfriend_ , is he?”

“We were a thing, a while ago,” Ste admits.  “And he don’t like you, does he?”

“A _thing_ , huh,” Brendan slows suddenly, pulling out so only the head of his cock rests inside Ste.  He pushes back in just as slowly, making Ste feel every inch until he’s fully sheathed and blanketing Ste’s back with his own body.  “Bet he never fucked you like this.”

“Oh, shut up, Brendan!” Ste says, but the heat in his words is lessened by the way he moans it out.

“That’s a yes,” Brendan grins, and turns Ste’s head to kiss him hard on the mouth.  Ste lets it happen, encourages it, starts rocking backwards in a silent plea.  Brendan indulges him.

“I think you liked it,” Brendan breathes, just to tease him.  Ste just groans, doesn’t even shoot a _shut up_ back at him.  So he continues, “I think you get off on knowing someone saw you bent over down here, taking every inch of my cock.”

“Yeah, keep dreaming,” Ste mutters, like he isn’t split in half on Brendan’s cock, rocking back to meet each thrust.

“Maybe I should call him back down here, call the entire club down here to get an eyeful of you fucking yourself on me,” Brendan slips his hand down to Ste’s cock and starts pumping it hard.  Ste falls apart quickly, slumping heavily against the wall and crying out as Brendan strokes him hard and fast.  “Bet you’d like that, Steven.  Wouldn’t you?”

“ _Ah, ah–_ ” is all Brendan gets in reply, just muffled sighs as Ste presses himself against the wall and lets Brendan tear him apart.  He’s clearly beyond words as Brendan lays into him, jerking him off hard and breathing hot against his ear.  Both of them are going to be soaked with sweat when they’re finished, shirts stained and stench primal.  But it’s worth it, for this.

Brendan can tell Ste is starting to get close when he rocks on his feet, rising to his tiptoes for a moment in a motion that almost bucks Brendan off.  Brendan decides right then to stop playing around.  He leans back enough that he can grip Ste’s hips and keep his hand on his cock as he pounds away.

Not long after that, Ste is coming with curses on his tongue and Brendan following quickly behind.  A few weeks ago, this lad was seducing him with overpriced pizzas and an attitude problem.  Now he’s panting heavily as his spent cock softens in Brendan’s hand.  Life is beautiful sometimes.

“I just came all over the wall in your booze cellar,” he breathes as they disentangle, clearly awed as he struggles to cover his bare arse.  “That’s gotta be a health violation, innit?”

Brendan laughs breathlessly as he removes the condom and looks around for a bin.  “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Ste scoffs a bit.  “Knew you were into some dirty business.”

“Don’t see you running off,” Brendan points out, tugging his trousers up and tucking his shirt in.  “I can’t be that bad.”

“Or maybe I’m okay with that,” Ste says.  “Maybe I’m into that.”

“You, dirty?   _Please_ , you’re a boy scout.”

Ste finally has his trousers up, but they’re still unbuttoned.  “Bet I done stuff that would make you blush.”

Now, that’s intriguing.  “Like what?”

“All sorts,” Ste says, absentmindedly fastening his jeans and crushing Brendan’s last sliver of hope for round two.  “Stop by the shop some time and maybe I’ll show you.”

“I’d rather you cook for me at my flat instead,” Brendan teases.  He expects Ste to brush him off with casual playfulness, but no.

“Maybe if you take me out first,” Ste says, surprising Brendan with how serious he sounds.  “Someplace nice, right.  If you do that, then I’ll cook for you.”

“Seriously?”

“Shag weren’t that good,” Ste grins.  “Gonna have to treat me proper if you want me proper.”

“You’re just full of surprises,” Brendan marvels, “Ain’t you?”

"Yep," Ste grins, all smug and full of himself.  “Now let’s get back before you lose a profit on that fruity shite.”

“It’d be worth it,” Brendan says, watching Ste brush the dirt off of the front of his shirt.

“Flatterer,” Ste says, stealing a quick kiss.  “Now come on, you’ve got a club to run up there.”

-

Brendan does take Ste out someplace nice.  Like, _really_ nice.  Ste wears a suit that makes him look older, less like a little delivery boy and more like an actual businessman.  Brendan wants to peel him out of it layer by layer until he has Ste’s bare skin all to himself, but Ste won’t have any of it.

The date – fucking _date_ , Brendan hasn’t been on an actual date in _ages_ – ends with nothing more than a kiss.  To be fair, it’s a pretty involved kiss, the kind of kiss that would get a curled lip out of just about anybody if they walked by and saw the two men on Ste’s doorstep.  Brendan somehow manages to restrain himself from fucking Ste right there, though it’s difficult.

As promised, Ste cooks for Brendan in his house – the second date.  It’s pissing outside and the wind is probably downing trees and power lines by the thousands, but Ste still shows up with a coat draped over his head and a flush to his cheeks, only a little wet at the bottom of his pants.

Brendan manages to keep himself from telling Ste to just take them off.

They’re comfortable around each other, like they passed the point of Ste’s shy awkwardness back when they’d flirt like kids on Brendan's doorstep.  Ste spends at least half the evening marveling at the beauty of Brendan’s kitchen while Brendan spends the entire night marveling at the beauty of Ste’s smile.  

And Ste’s arse.

Call him soft, but it’s hard not to be when a gorgeous man places a home-cooked meal right in front of him.

“So was it up to your standards?” Ste asks, crisp white button down sleeves pushed up to his elbows as he cleans the mess in the kitchen.  Brendan saunters over to him with two cups of coffee and slides on in front of Ste.

“Leave the mess.  My boys should be here tomorrow and they’re behind on their chores quota.”

“You’re a right slave driver, aren’t you?” Ste says, grinning over the rim of his cup.

“I believe in work before play,” Brendan says, leaning against the countertop.  “Gotta show them who’s boss.”

“Yeah, right,” Ste rolls his eyes.  “I bet my Leah would have you wrapped around her little finger.”

“If she’s anything like you, I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Ste gets a strange look about him, sort of cautiously flirtatious as he settles in Brendan’s personal space.  “Saying I got you whipped already?”

“I wouldn’t say _whipped_ ,” Brendan says, cocking his head to the side.  “I ain’t the type to get whipped.”

Ste grins with his tongue peeking out from between his teeth the slightest bit.  “You say that now…”

It’s a good thing Brendan didn’t break out his creme brûlée tonight, because he has a feeling that they’re going to be skipping dessert.  “Planning on taming me, are you?”

“I’d never want _that_ ,” Ste says, full on grinning at this point, “But I wouldn’t mind making you a one-delivery-boy kind of bloke.”

Brendan gets a word out, maybe two, but whatever he says is overshadowed by the window howling at the window and the sudden flickering of the lights.

“Well that’s crap,” Ste pouts.  And then, reluctantly, “Better head off before it gets worse out there.”

“You don’t want to walk home in this,” Brendan says, “You might tousle your nice pretty hair.”

He runs his fingers through Ste’s gelled hair just to be a dick, and Ste bats him away with a sour look.  “Yeah, says you.  Bet you use more product than me, you’re a proper dandy.”

“I know how to look good, Steven.”

Ste rolls his eyes.  “Right, well I don’t want to be rolling in at three in the morning and waking up the whole flat, so I'd better take off–”

“You know,” Brendan cuts in, “You could stay the night.”

Ste regards him with gentle suspicion.  “Thought you said your kids were coming over tomorrow.”

“Yeah, so what?” Brendan shrugs, slowly advancing on Ste until he has the lad pressed against the counter.  “So long as you don’t walk around in the morning with your tackle out, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Ste flushes at that, always flushes at the strangest things.  “Planning on getting me completely naked this time, are you?”

“Steven, please,” Brendan scoffs, “As if you weren’t, too.”

“Not everyone thinks the way you do, dirty old man,” Ste teases even as he skirts his fingernails along Brendan’s sides until they reach the hem of his trousers.  Brendan wants to dare him to move forward, but even more he wants Ste to take things on his own time.

Handing control of the pace of the evening over to Ste scores him a blowjob in the kitchen, so Brendan would call it a success.  He wants to fuck Ste across the dining table for irony’s sake, but Ste insists on going to bed.

Brendan manages to keep his comments about Ste’s kisses tasting like garlic and oregano to himself.  Something about Ste feels softer than before as Brendan drags his open palms over each inch of new skin until Ste is lying back on the sheets, eyes lidded and mouth red.  Not even the roaring storm outside puts them off; the thunder that shakes the supports of this flat is gentler than Brendan’s ever heard.

It’s not long before the power goes out, but they keep each other warm.  

Only being able to see Ste in the illuminating flashbulbs of lightning is almost enough to put Brendan in a sour mood.  He’d waited so long to get Ste here, now he feels like he’s being cheated.

It’s a good thing Ste is so loud, so receptive to every touch that Brendan soon learns that sight isn’t necessary.  Not when he can feel Ste writhing against him, grinding and panting and begging for more.  It’s no surprise when he comes all over his own stomach, Brendan could feel him shaking with it.

He hadn’t planned to kick Ste out, not even with the threat of Eileen’s curled lip and thinly-veiled judgement if she were to find him here.  There’s no question of whether or not Ste wants to stay, either.  Once he’s been cleaned up, he lies back lazily against the frankly excessive amount of pillows like he sleeps in this bed every night.  Brendan doesn’t bother saying anything as he scoots under the covers, allowing Ste to curl against him.

It’s past four in the morning when the power surges back on, startling Brendan into a lazy sort of wakefulness.  Ste doesn’t even twitch from where he’s draped across Brendan’s chest, soft puffs of air from his nose tickling the hairs there.

The annoyance of trying to sleep with the lights on finally gets to Brendan, and he slowly wiggles away from Ste’s octopus grip to turn the lights off and engulf the room in blissful darkness.  When he goes back to bed, Ste reaches for him, eyes still shut, and pulls Brendan close again

Hitting on the delivery boy was one of Brendan’s better ideas, for sure.

-

When the sun comes up, neither of them can see it behind the overcast sky.  It’s hardly daybreak, but the window shines blue-grey with drizzling rain.  Brendan inhales the cold morning air and grins when he hears the quiet popping of finger bones from somewhere close to his chin.

“That’s bad for your joints,” Brendan chastises, and Ste cracks his thumb in defiance.

“If my joints could survive a night with you, I don’t think cracking them will hurt much.”

Brendan huffs a laugh.  “What’s that even mean?”

“Means you’re well savage,” Ste says, nuzzling into Brendan’s neck.  “I’m gonna be sore for ages.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining last night.”

Ste’s head pops up at that.  He smiles slightly as he says, “Lucky you was good.”

“How good?”

Ste rolls his eyes.  “Good enough.”

“That’s not an answer,” Brendan mutters, lazily wrapping his arms around Ste and wrestling him onto his back.  Ste doesn’t struggle, he just grins dopily and lets Brendan manhandle him like putty.

“I could make you breakfast,” he offers.  “As a thank you for being _so good_.”

“There’s something else I’d rather eat,” Brendan says as he moves down Ste's body.  “Now spread your legs wider.”

“You did _not_ just say tha – _ah_!”

Human beings were not designed to mentally handle the sort of noises Ste makes when he gets eaten out.  If Brendan were younger, he’d be rock hard and humping the bed at just the sound and taste of him.  Right now he’s in danger of sporting a semi, even when Ste tugs him away.

“Too early,” he mutters, dodging Brendan’s attempts at kisses.  “I know where that mouth’s been, right and your morning breath is probably rank.”

“Don’t know till you try it,” Brendan smirks, and drags his blunt fingertips across Ste’s hole.

“Cut it out,” Ste mutters, shoving Brendan’s hands away and stuffing his burning face in the pillow.  Brendan laughs a low rumbling thing not unlike last night’s thunder, and Ste grins like he’s trying to hide it.

They fall back asleep after a while, the gentle rain pinging on the window lulling them into a comfortable laziness.  It’s sunday and neither of them have to work, and Eileen shouldn’t be dropping the boys off for hours now.

Or so Brendan thinks.

The next time he opens his eyes, it’s to Padraig's eyes staring down at him, huge and unreadable.

“What?” he mutters, rising up onto his elbows.  “Paddy, what’s wrong?”

“There’s a strange man,” Paddy says, his voice a hissed whisper, “In the kitchen.”

Brendan collapses with a huff of laughter.  “Please tell me he’s making breakfast.”

Paddy’s eyes somehow widen, laws of nature be damned.  “You tell us never to take food from strange men!”

“This strange man is an exception,” Brendan says.  “Now go ask him to make breakfast for your old da, pretty please.”

Paddy immediately bounces off the bed and bounds out of the room, shouting, “Deccy!  Da says he can feed us!”

Brendan throws an arm over his eyes and takes a minute to acclimate himself to the world of the waking.  Ste is in his house, cooking breakfast if the smell wafting into Brendan’s room is any indication.  Ste is  _in his house,_ the same house his children are in.  This could go very well, or very _very_ badly.

Mustering his courage, Brendan crawls out of bed and tries to find some clothes.  The only article of Ste’s he finds are his socks, and Brendan is at least glad that the lad took his advice and put some trousers on before strolling around.

Downstairs, he’s met with the sight of a barefoot Ste wearing conspicuously wrinkled clothes and grinning at Paddy who’s buzzing around him.  Declan is sitting at the table with his phone in his hand, but he looks up when Brendan wanders in.

“Morning, gentlemen,” Brendan mumbles, inhaling the scent of brewing coffee.  “Didn’t expect to wake up to an audience of three.”

“We got dropped off earlier today,” Declan says as way of explanation as he rises to his feet.

Brendan heads straight for the kettle.  “Yeah, you don’t say.”

“So this bloke,” Declan says quietly, leaning in close to keep their conversation private.  “He’s your boyfriend, then?”

Straight to the chase.  Brendan is guilty of stringing unfortunate one night stands through his boy’s lives, and Declan is always hounding him about settling down.  Most of the men scamper away at the sight or mention of his boys.  So far, Ste is definitely the first one to cook them breakfast.

“Dunno,” Brendan grunts, noncommittal and annoyingly casual.  Declan rolls his eyes.

“Figured.”

“It’s just–”  Brendan huffs, quietly adding, “It’s too soon to tell.”

Declan sighs, typical teenager.  “Right, sure.”

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Ste asks playfully over the hiss of the frying pan.

“Brady business,” Brendan says.

Ste doesn’t say anything, he just snorts a quick laugh and keeps his eyes glued to the pan.  It makes Brendan churn with an unfamiliar guilt.

“Glad Paddy’s not shitting himself anymore,” Declan changes the subject as he grins over at where Ste is sneaking Paddy scraps of food straight from the countertop like he’s a puppy.

“Deccy!” Brendan scolds, but it’s too damn early for there to be any heat in his words.  “My da ever heard me talk like that, he’d take a belt to me.”

“You’re da was an aresehole,” Decalan says, fire rising in him.  “Excuse my French.”

“French excused,” Brendan says, quietly thrilled and still surprised that his sons take his side in that particular drama.  “Speaking of, Steven!  That toast almost ready?”

“If you keep begging for it, you’re gonna get it last,” Ste calls back.

“ _Ooh_ ,” Declan hisses.  “Whipped.”

Brendan glares at him.  “Excuse me?”

Declan mimes cracking a whip, and Brendan gives him a light smack on the back of the head for it.  True to his word, Ste serves Brendan last when the food is done, taunting him with the plate by holding it just out of his reach and forcing Brendan to push up against him to grab it.

Paddy mimes gagging while Declan rolls his eyes.  Brendan wonders if they’d hit the deck if he started kissing Ste.

Brendan never gets to find out.  When he does kiss Ste next, it’s in front of the front door while Deccy and Paddy are in another room.  It’s still raining, but Ste insists he doesn’t need a ride home, no matter how many times Brendan asks.

What he does ask for is a kiss, and Brendan doesn’t waste any time obliging him.  He wonders if this is how normal dates followed by rounds of awesome sex usually end.  Brendan does _normal_ about as infrequently as he does _dates_.

Later, after Ste is gone and Brendan is alone with his kids, Declan asks about him again.

“Your blokes don’t usually feed us.”

Brendan considers ignoring the little shit before saying, “This one is different.”

Declan looks at him with his eyebrows raised.

“I mean–” Brendan stutters, “He works at that pizza shop, you know.  Or deli.  Whatever.”

“Keep him,” Declan says, deadly serious.  “He’s a good cook, that one.”

It sounds an awful lot like approval.  Brendan tries to hide his smile by biting his cheek, but he’s pretty sure Declan sees it anyway.

-

Another week passes with only brief text messages between them before Brendan rolls up into that little shop hungry for more than just a panini.  Doug is behind the counter, scratching something down on a notepad, and when he looks up Brendan realizes this is the first time they’ve seen each other since Doug got an eyeful of Ste bent over with Brendan fucking his brains out.

Needless to say, it’s awkward.

Brendan loves the way he squirms and stutters.  “Hey, can I uh, get you something?”

“One blue-eyed lad who can whip up a mean meat pizza,” Brendan says bluntly as he approaches the counter.  “If you please.”

Doug opens his mouth and then immediately snaps it shut, at a loss for words.

“The _other_ one,” Brendan clarifies.  “Not you.  But don’t worry, Douglas, you _are_ my favorite American.”

“Yeah, uh, if you want to talk to Ste, you can come back on his break.”

“So he _is_ here? Excellent.”

Then Brendan rounds the counter and pushes past Doug, ignoring his warnings and pleas.  He hears Leanne and Ste laughing together in the back before he sees them.  Leanne notices him first.

“Do you just barge into the kitchen of all the shops you go to,” she sasses, “Or just this one?”

Ste turns to see who she’s talking to and lights up when his eyes find Brendan.  “Morning, stranger!”

Brendan takes a deep breath as he meanders into Ste’s personal space.  “Is that my lunch you’re making?”

“If you pay for it, maybe,” Ste teases.

“Put it on my tab.”

“We’re not a pub,” Leanne interjects, and Brendan almost forgot she was in here already.

“No, but I’m sure Steven would make an exception for me.”

“Are you here for something in particular?” Ste asks, shifting pizzas out of the oven and onto wire heat racks.  “Or do you just like getting in the way?”

“I’m taking you out tonight,” Brendan says casually.  “If that’s okay with you.”

“I’d rather stay in, use your kitchen again,” Ste says, minxy little smile on his face.  “Anyway, I thought you’d have me replaced with another delivery boy by now.”

“You calling me a hussy, Steven?” Brendan asks, mildly offended at the gibe.  “I’m perfectly capable of fidelity.”

“Fi–fi– _what_?”

“He won’t cheat on you,” Leanne whispers loudly in Ste’s ear, and Brendan nods at her in affirmation and thanks.

“Alright, then answer me this,” Ste starts, rising to his full height and looking Brendan straight in the eye, “Are me and you dating?”

“Depends,” Brendan says, bringing his wristwatch between their bodies and scrutinizing the face of the clock.  “Will you be ready around seven?”

Ste’s eyebrow goes up and Leanne is beside herself with poorly-concealed amusement behind him.  “Suppose I can make it, yeah.”

Brendan lets himself grin, but reins it in before it can grow into a full smile.  “That’s what I like to hear.”

Ste is grinning too, that flirty little quirk of the mouth that Brendan just _has_ to lean down and kiss.  So much for work to do, Ste rests his hands on either side of Brendan’s neck and presses as close up against him as he can.

“Health code violation!” Leanne yells, prying them apart.  “You can slobber all over each other tonight, but the lunchtime rush is about to start and we can’t have you two snogging in the kitchen.”

“Right,” Ste mutters, dragging his eyes away from Brendan.  “Seven tonight, it is.”

“See you then, Steven,” Brendan says, and somehow manages to resist squeezing Ste’s ass as he brushes past him on the way to the door.  Leanne waggles a finger in his face as he wanders out of the kitchen like she’s warning him to treat Ste right.

She doesn’t have to worry about that.

On his way out, Brendan swipes a slice of sponge cake sitting on a tray on the counter, biting into it just as Doug gripes at him to pay up.

“Put it on my tab.”

“Brendan, I’m not an idiot,” Doug deadpans.  “You don’t have a tab.”

“Well, then,” Brendan stops and walks back to the counter, “Let Steven know I will pay him back _in full_ tonight.”

Then Brendan winks and strolls out of the shop, stuffing his face and wondering whether or not Ste was serious about wanting a night in with Brendan’s kitchen.

Turns out he was.  Ste has no intention of leaving Brendan’s flat once he shows up at 6:30 dressed down with a case of booze and something that smells good in a plastic container.  Brendan is charmed by the casual way he’s presenting himself, all innocent smiles and peace offerings.

“That’ll be fourteen quid,” Ste teases, trying to elbow past Brendan into the flat.

“No, no no,” Brendan blocks the doorway.  “I’m not bagging a gold digger, now am I?”

“ _Bagging_?” Ste scoffs.  “Hardly.  Besides, you still have to pay for the food you nicked at the shop earlier.”

“How about I pay you in hospitality and the privilege to use my kitchen?”

Ste rolls his eyes.  He does that a lot, but in a begrudgingly endeared way.  “Alright, throw in a kiss and you have a deal.”

Brendan grins.  “I think I can manage that–”

Ste leans up to kiss him before Brendan even finishes.


End file.
